


Deep Waters

by Evergreene



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Drowning, Hurt Alec Lightwood, M/M, Magnus is magical...abnormally so, Malec, Parabatai Bond, Protective Jace Wayland, Protective Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25422904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evergreene/pseuds/Evergreene
Summary: Alec falls foul of a gift from one of Magnus's clients.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 30
Kudos: 324





	Deep Waters

**Author's Note:**

> This is my third foray into the wonderful world of Shadowhunters fic. It's been a little while since I've read the books and watched the show now, so hopefully I've remembered all the quirks of this world's magic correctly (google has been my friend). As always, I'd love to know what you think and I hope you enjoy the read.

‘What’s this?’ said Alec, picking up the ornate wooden box Magnus had deposited on the lounge room table after emerging from a now fast-shrinking portal. Brow furrowed, he turned it about in his hands, long archer’s fingers following the smooth, dark grain of the wood. The box was a small thing, barely as wide as the stretch of his palm, but the intricately worked sides and gilded symbols wrapped round it suggested an importance belied by its size. 

‘It was a gift, Alexander,’ Magnus replied, stealing the box from Alec with nimble fingers on his way back from hanging up his coat. ‘From a grateful client.’ 

‘Grateful?’ Eyebrow crooked, Alec followed behind him as he made his way towards the wall of books, instruments and elaborately rolled manuscripts that formed Magnus’ central library. ‘I thought you usually charged for your services. Through the teeth.’ 

‘My fees _are_ exorbitant,’ said Magnus fondly, eyes roving over the crowded shelves as he looked for a spare place to store the box. He twisted back to look at Alec. ‘But I like to think I always leave my customers satisfied.’ 

The corner of Alec’s mouth twitched up. ‘I can vouch for that.’ 

Magnus smirked, turning back to his shelves. ‘And here I was thinking you were always so innocent.’ 

Alec stepped up behind him, hands just barely brushing over Magnus’ hips. ‘Before I met you I was.’ 

Reaching back, Magnus placed his free hand over Alec’s, his many silver rings glittering in the soft lamplight that lit the loft against the encroaching dusk of a late fall evening. ‘Now, Alexander,’ he said in soft rebuke, leaning up and back so he could press a light kiss to the corner of Alec’s mouth, ‘if you’re not careful, people will start to think I’m a bad influence on you.’ 

Alec’s face creased in one of his brief, brilliant smiles. ‘Aren’t you?’ 

Magnus hummed, non-committal as he pressed another kiss to Alec’s lips before shifting in his grip so they were face-to-face and he could skim the side of his thumb over the dark _Deflect_ rune on Alec’s pale neck. ‘Some people,’ he murmured, following its path with a brush of his lips, ‘have even said I’m dangerous.’ 

Alec closed his eyes, leaning more of his weight against the warlock, letting their foreheads touch. ‘That so?’ 

Distracted suddenly as a small frown creased his forehead, Magnus paused in his attentions. ‘It was Ragnor who said it though.’ 

Alec frowned, lifting his head slightly. ‘I thought you said you had a-’ 

‘- a firm policy of always ignoring whatever came out of Ragnor’s mouth?’ Magnus finished for him. ‘I did. Do. Whatever.’ Ignoring Alec’s furrowed brow, Magnus let out a regretful sigh and stepped back. ‘As delectable as this little interlude has been, my dear,’ he admitted, ‘I’m afraid I really do need to put this away.’ He held up the box between them, its gilded symbols glinting in the soft light. ‘In the wrong hands, what’s inside could be dangerous.’ 

Alec glanced at it curiously. ‘Why?’ 

Running his fingers along its side, Magnus tapped the box lightly with his violet-hued nails, then pressed on the centre of one of the gilded carvings. A twist of blue smoke flared, then vanished almost before it had appeared and, ever so slowly, the lid of the box rose incrementally upwards, revealing a deep amber crystal with an ugly stain in its midst, sitting on a bed of velvet green cloth. Looking closer, Alec realised the mark inside the stone was flickering, looking almost like it was trying to get out as it blazed and danced against the sides of the jewel containing it. 

‘An Aydindril stone,’ said Magnus softly. ‘Made for use during wars that took place many centuries ago. It was a way of transporting generals from one point on the battlefield to another, or of getting a king or queen away from sudden peril. Key it to someone and it will take them to whatever location you desire, completely untraceable.’ He tilted the box so the stone glinted in the lamplight. ‘A handy little trinket, to be sure.’ 

Alec leaned closer to the stone before glancing up at Magnus, mind whirring over the strategic potential of such a tool on the battlefield, or on the hunt. ‘Key it? How?’ 

‘A strand of hair, a drop of blood.’ Magnus shrugged. ‘The stone may be powerful, but it’s not picky. Once whoever it’s keyed to touches it…’ Magnus snapped his fingers, sharp and light, ‘…they’re there.’ 

Alec frowned. ‘Isn’t that dangerous? What if you touched it by accident?’ 

‘It’s not spelled to anyone at the moment, my dear. See?’ Magnus brushed the stone with the tip of his finger. ‘Harmless.’ 

Cautiously, Alec reached out a large hand, calloused from his archery, and touched his finger to the centre of the stone. His mouth rounded in surprise. ‘Oh crap,’ he said. 

‘Alexander?’ said Magnus. 

But Alec was gone. 

\----------------- 

‘What do you means he’s gone?’ 

A dismissive flick of his fingers had the portal closing behind the three shadowhunters and Magnus spun at once away from them, striding across the loft with Jace, Isabelle and Clary following close in his wake. 

‘I mean someone spelled the Aydindril stone my last set of clients gave me and now I can’t find Alec. Anywhere.’ 

‘A what kind of stone?’ he heard Clary echo, and twisting back to face them he reached into the thin air beside his head, pulling from it with a wisp of blue smoke the ornate wooden box that held his last payment. 

‘This!’ he exclaimed, magic sparking through the air from his fingertips as he brandished it. ‘It contains what’s called an Aydindril stone, used throughout history to transport people in battle. It must have been keyed to Alexander somehow before I ever received it.’ His voice caught in his throat as he forced himself to utter the rest of the sentence. ‘Alec touched it earlier this evening and now I don’t know where he is.’ 

Jace’s hand was resting on the hilt of his seraph blade as he leant forward to get a better view of the stone. ‘So what you’re saying is that someone has Alec? They set a trap for him?’ 

‘No.’ Anger swirled, sudden and hard, and Magnus closed his eyes, fighting to keep himself under control, to prevent his warlock eyes from flicking into gold. It was always more of a challenge to keep up the glamour when he was stressed. _Terrified_ , his mind told him, but he pushed the thought aside, forcing it down. He didn’t have time for fear. Opening his eyes again, he forced himself to meet Jace’s hard stare. ‘No,’ he repeated. ‘This trap is for me.’ 

Vanishing the box with an impatient wave of his hand, he strode over to his dresser, set against the wall in a corner of his study. ‘Whoever planned this wanted to take something of mine, take some _one_ I cared for. They spelled the stone inside this box specifically to Alec, which means that whoever it was knows who he is to me. And as there’s been no note, no other hint of contact from them, I can only assume their intention was to punish, not to persuade.’ 

Kneeling down, Magnus threw open the lower doors of the dresser and began pulling out jar after jar of glimmering powders and potions, along with piles of archaic books, gathered swathes of fabric and a collection of tightly-rolled scrolls pushed to the very back which folded to dust as soon as he disturbed them. ‘Damn!’ he swore, vanishing the dust with a swirl of his fingers as he continued searching through the cupboard. It had been years since he had looked in here quite so thoroughly and now he was paying for his neglect. 

‘So where is he?’ 

That was Isabelle, her bright red lipstick a sharp stain against her pale skin, which looked more translucent than usual in the glare of the city lights outside the dark apartment window. ‘I mean, Alec couldn’t just have vanished, could he?’ 

‘No,’ said Magnus distractedly, gaze caught by a particular potion he thought for a moment might be helpful. Drawing it out, he pulled the stopper and sniffed before scrunching his nose disgustedly and doing away with the congealed contents with a spin of his fingers. He threw the empty bottle aside, his gaze now roving over the books on the upper shelf and finding all of them useless. ‘There are few in this world powerful enough to wipe somebody from existence. This was the stone, I’m certain of it.’ 

Isabelle’s voice held an edge of anger this time as she repeated her earlier words. ‘Then where is he, Magnus?’ 

Magnus slammed the dresser door shut, blue magic whirling in a violent wind as he surged to his feet. ‘I don’t know!’ he snapped, twisting round, and it was not until he saw a sliver of uncertainty in Isabelle’s eyes that he realised his voice had carried in it a hint of Hell. Immediately contrite, he forced himself to draw a loose, calming breath, slowing his quicksilver movements. ‘Isabelle, my sweet, I’m sorry. I’m just…so very worried about your brother right now.’ 

‘So are we,’ said Clary comfortingly, stepping forwards, and he felt another prick of guilt as he took note of her dishevelled appearance for the first time. He had not given the three of them long to get ready when he had portalled to the Institute to alert them to Alec’s disappearance and it showed. Whereas Isabelle was dressed as though ready for a night out, Clary’s red hair was pulled messily back in a low ponytail, and her khaki jacket hung half-off one shoulder, revealing the braided sleeve of the black tank top she wore underneath. Her face, though, was as earnest and anxious as ever when she spoke. ‘But this isn’t your fault, Magnus.’ 

A pang of horrible, empty guilt rolled around his gut. ‘Isn’t it?’ he said hollowly, setting one hand on the dresser. ‘I was the one who was dealing with these people. I was the one who let Alec touch the stone-’ 

‘From what you’ve said, you couldn’t have known it had been spelled to him-’ 

‘I should have!’ His temper flared again and Magnus pushed himself up, running his hands over his hair, magic sparking off him so wildly that a cloud of azure smoke was left wafting about his head. ‘There’s a reason, Biscuit, that I am the High Warlock of Brooklyn. I should be able to sense this sort of spell a mile away. But I didn’t even take the time to check if the stone had been activated, much less attuned to Alec or myself.’ 

‘We can deal with that later.’ Jace’s voice was hard as he cut into the conversation from where he had taken up position at the study doorway, watching them all with folded arms as he leaned against the frame. ‘Alec is gone and we need to find him. Now. So what do we do?’ 

‘Can you feel him at all?’ Isabelle demanded, turning on him. ‘Through your bond?’ 

Standing straight, Jace closed his eyes briefly, lips thinning in a frown as he concentrated. ‘Barely. It’s weak. He feels… confused. I don’t think he knows where he is either.’ 

‘Then we’ll find out for him.’ Isabelle’s voice was determined, and Magnus saw her visibly set her shoulders, a Lightwood through and through. ‘Magnus, we need you to think. Where are your clients now? Can you take us to them?’ 

He shook his head. ‘They aren’t the ones responsible for this. Someone else must have keyed the stone before they acquired it. I don’t know who.’ 

‘How do you know that?’ demanded Jace at once. 

Magnus eyed him levelly. ‘Suffice to say, the Institute wasn’t the first place I visited tonight,' he replied, his tone deceptively light. 

‘They could have been lying to you-’ began Clary. 

‘Trust me,’ said Magnus, and this time he let the glamour drop from his eyes as he turned on her. ‘They weren’t lying.’ 

Silence reigned a moment, broken only when Jace turned away from them all, striding out of the study and across the loft to gaze out the window at the harsh pinpricks of light that made up the city skyline. ‘I should have known something like this would happen,’ he muttered. The comment was almost, but not quite, to himself and Magnus felt his magic prickle as he followed. 

‘You’re choosing now to do this, Shadowhunter?’ he said cynically, drawing to a halt in the middle of the lounge. ‘Really?’ 

‘He’s not choosing anything,’ Clary said hurriedly, clearly trying to play peacekeeper as she hurried over to step between them, one hand on Jace's chest as though she could quiet him with a word. ‘He doesn’t mean anything. He’s just worried about Alec, we all are-’ 

But Magnus was not in the mood to humour her. ‘No. Jace has always had a problem with mine and Alec’s relationship, it’s only fair that he should have the opportunity to say so.’ He turned on Jace, fully aware of the way his unglamoured cat-eyes caught the city’s lights at he stared at him. ‘After all, he’s always thought I would get Alec hurt.’ 

‘No,’ retorted Jace, ‘I always thought you would break his heart. But it turns out you’re able to hurt Alec in other ways too.’ 

Clary interrupted them again. ‘Jace, you don’t mean what you’re saying. Magnus would never hurt Alec-’ 

Magnus held up a hand. ‘It’s all right, Clary, believe me. As rare an event as it may be, Jace isn’t completely wrong this time. You see, I have enemies - old ones - that will stop at nothing to get back at me, and that includes trying to hurt who or what I hold dear.’ He shrugged, thoughts going to the omorri charm tucked away in his sleeve. ‘But what Alec and I have is worth the risk.’ 

‘To you, maybe,’ retorted Jace. 

‘To both of us,’ Magnus said sharply. ‘Are you so blinkered as to think Alec didn’t know what he was getting into with me? He knows the risk, he learns more of it every day. I haven’t kept it hidden from him, what I am.’ 

‘Really.’ Jace’s voice was as sceptical as his raised brow. ‘Alec knows what you can do. What you can _r_ _eally_ do.’ 

Magnus stilled. ‘You’ve been reading the files the Institute has on me,’ he said finally, making sure to keep his voice level. 

‘He’s my _parabatai_. What do you think?’ 

‘Stop this!’ Isabelle had made her way over and she shoved between them angrily, dark eyes flashing as she bit out her next words. ‘While you two are standing here duelling over Alec’s honour, my brother is the Angel knows where! So whatever this jealousy thing is that you’ve got going on, stow it! You can deal with it later. _After_ we get Alec back.’ 

Magnus realised his breaths were coming hard and fast and he forced himself to slow them, inclining his head gracefully. ‘You’re right, of course, Isabelle. I’m sorry.’ 

Jace said nothing but stepped back with a duck of his head, allowing Magnus to turn towards a set of shelves on the wall and remove two books he thought might be potential sources of information about the stone. He handed one to Jace as he turned to face the others. ‘Let’s keep looking.’ 

\----------------- 

The darkness was disorienting. Alec had long since given up trying to figure out if his eyes were open or closed, or if it was day or night outside his rocky prison. All he knew was that he was cold, he was fed up and he wanted out. 

Graceless in the dark, he clambered to his feet as best he could, hampered by the clanking manacle about his left ankle that was fixed by a short, tight chain to a metal loop embedded in the ground. Stilling for a moment to get his bearings, he began for what felt like the hundredth time to press his hands against the damp rock walls that surrounded him, almost two arm’s length away on near every side, though out of reach above him, searching for something, anything, that would tell him where he was or the identity of his captors. 

He thought he had had heard them once. Faint voices in the blackness, with lilting, lyrical tones that made him think of the Fey. But the language had been unfamiliar, bearing no links to any of the faerie dialects Izzy had drilled him on during their years of training, and the voices had faded before he could make out anything more, leaving him alone. 

His search of the cave walls yielding nothing, he crouched down and ran his fingers across the uneven stone floor, grimacing as they came across the cold length of the chain, before wincing as the side of his left palm caught on something sharp at the foot of the nearby wall. With a hiss, he brought his hand to his mouth, sucking on the cut, almost hitting himself in the face in the process he was so blind. More slowly, he reached back carefully with his other hand, doing his best not to shiver at the damp chill in the air as he felt about. 

There was a deep crack at the foot of the wall, right down low near his left boot. Its edges were sharp and jagged, but it was definitely there. Feeling about a little more, he allowed the tips of his fingers to gingerly trace its outline before pressing inside. The crack was deep, and long as well, but it was no wider than the heaviest of the books Magnus stockpiled in his library. Frustrated, he straightened up. It was something, but not anything that could aid his escape. 

Continuing to suck on the small cut, he paused. Along with the wet dampness of the cave floor, something else was on his tongue – a taste of something sharp. Tight. Biting. 

Salt. 

His lowered his hand, his mind whirling at the realisation. He was surrounded by rock walls, the air around him was moist and cold and the floor was salty to the touch. He was in a sea cave. 

At once, knowing his location made him feel better, as bare as the information was. More knowledge meant more control, and more control meant more chance of getting out, of being safe. Because from what Magnus had told him about the Aydindril stone he supposed had transported him here, his safety was no doubt at risk. 

As though in answer to the thought, a sweet thrill of cool air rushed into the cave, shifting the dampness that had clung to his skin ever since he had come to lying on the rocky floor, body aching and unable to see in the darkness. It was followed quickly by the soft wash of sound from down by his boots and, heart beating fast, he reached tentatively down to touch the ground. 

His fingers came away not damp, but wet. 

He was in a sea cave. 

The tide outside was rising. 

He had to get out. 

\------------- 

‘I can’t take this anymore,’ exclaimed Isabelle, pushing up to her feet from where she had been sat pouring over a great leather tome, cross-legged on one of Magnus’ blue cushioned armchairs. ‘It’s been hours! We need to do something!’ 

‘What can we do?’ said Clary from behind her from where she was perched lightly on the arm of the same chair, feet tucked into the edge of the seat. ‘Jace’s parabatai tracking isn’t working, and who knows what it will do to both of them if he keeps trying. And even if we _can_ figure out a way to locate Alec, we can’t portal in to somewhere we don’t know.’ 

‘I may have a solution,’ said Magnus quietly from where he was sitting alone on the couch. A thin notebook covered in his looping writing was splayed out on his lap and he was staring at the notes absently, his brow creased heavily in thought. 

‘What are you talking about?’ asked Jace, rising to his feet as well and going to stand beside Clary. He had been crouched on the floor, digging through more of Magnus’ cupboards in search of other books that might help them find Alec. 

Magnus skimmed the open page of the notebook, following his path with a violet-hued nail. ‘What Clary was saying about not being able to portal to Alec, even if we find him. It reminded me of a spell I experimented with once, back in San Francisco.’ He looked up. ‘You see, I’d lost a scarf I was rather fond of and I wanted a way to get to it without knowing where it was. I spent some days working on a spell to help me do just that and I had just about finished when the earth started shaking and suddenly I found I had other things on my mind.’ 

Depositing her book on the chair, Isabelle shifted so she could lean over Magnus, trying her best to make out the scrawled words that littered the pages of his notebook. ‘This spell, will it get us to Alec?’ 

Magnus dealt her a quick look. ‘In its way.’ 

‘What does that mean?’ Jace asked suspiciously. 

‘Does it matter?’ asked Clary. 

Isabelle nodded in agreement, shrugging her shoulders when Jace glared at her. 'If it’ll get us to Alec, I say we do it.’ 

Magnus stood, putting his notebook aside on the couch efore pacing from one side of the lounge to the other. ‘With the amount of power it will require, it will be a one-time thing,’ he warned them, turning round. ‘We’ll have to portal back. And it’s not tested. As I said, I had just finished it.’ 

Jace wrapped his arms over his chest, rubbing them as if he were cold. ‘You’re not exactly filling me with confidence here. Will it even work?’ 

Magnus met his eyes. ‘There’s a chance,' he replied simply. ‘And that’s better than anything we have right now.’ 

‘Then we do it,’ Isabelle stated. 

Magnus straightened, shaking back the sleeves of his plum-coloured shirt. ‘I’ll need some blood, Lightwood blood,’ he told Isabelle, who nodded. ‘And I need something of Alec’s.’ He turned to Clary. ‘Biscuit, try the bedroom. Alec always leave some clothes in his side of the closet.’ 

‘He’s got closet space?’ Isabelle asked interestedly, then shook her head as the others looked at her, causing her dark hair to tumble round her shoulders. ‘Sorry. Habit.’ 

Magnus stretched out his fingers, limbering them, before heading once again to the study. ‘Alright. Let’s get to work.’ 

\------------------------ 

The water was getting deeper. 

Alec kicked again with the heel of his boot at the hook and chain binding the manacle to the cave floor. The impact jarred its way up his leg and he swore, vicious bubbles emerging from out of his mouth before he managed to find his feet again and could straighten up, throwing back his head and shaking it as he emerged gasping out of the water. But there was no give in the chain, was never any give, and a rising surge of panic took him as he noticed the water had risen another inch during his efforts under the surface. 

It was lapping at his chest now. 

He wished once more he had his stele, but that had been taken from him by whoever had trapped him in the cave, as had his blades and even the slim mundane knife he kept secreted in his boot. What he needed was Magnus. Or Jace. Or Isabelle, or, by the Angel, he’d even take Clary and that vampire of hers right now. 

But they weren’t coming. 

He ran a hand through his dripping hair, ignoring it as it trembled. He had no tools, no nothing, his feet were going numb in his boots and the water was rising higher. 

He was going to die. 

\------------------- 

‘Faster, Izzy,’ Clary urged her, handing over her own bowl of ground-up herbs to Magnus before backing up a few steps to the other side of the carved oak table set against the wall in Magnus’s study. 

‘I know, I know!’ exclaimed Isabelle. She cursed as the stone pestle she was using slipped against the jelly-like substance in her bowl but kept going determinedly, mashing it up as directed. ‘Magnus?’ 

‘We’re almost there,’ said Magnus, bent over the elaborate concoction of ingredients spread out on the table. He took a pinch of saffron from a little bowl. ‘Just a couple more things-’ 

Jace, who had been hovering impatiently by Isabelle, interrupted them then by doubling over, clutching his chest as he gasped suddenly for breath. 

‘Jace?’ Clary turned, grabbing at him as he lurched to the side. Her face was white. ‘Jace, what is it?’ 

‘I don’t know. It’s like…it’s like I can’t get in enough air.’ Jace dropped to his knees, hand still on his chest, clutching at it as he fought to speak. ‘It’s hard to breathe.’ 

The others looked at each other over Jace’s head. ‘Alec,’ they said in unison, and Magnus stood up, shoving his chair back so it scraped across the wooden floor. 

‘Give me that.’ Grabbing the bowl from Isabelle, he poked the substance inside with his finger and nodded. ‘It’s close enough.’ 

Carefully, he used the pestle to nudge the sludgey substance into the same silver basin as the other ingredients, then moved his hands over it, murmuring the untried incantation under his breath. A few sparks singed out, but nothing more happened, so he tried again, louder this time, his movements more virulent and adding a couple of extra phrases at the end. The ingredients shifted slightly in the container, lighting briefly with an eerie grey gleam before stilling. 

Cursing, he turned to the others. ‘It’s not strong enough,’ he snapped. ‘It can’t do what we need.’ 

‘Try it again,’ Jace ground out, now crouched by the foot of the dresser with Clary next to him, but Magnus shook his head. 

‘You don’t understand. I want to save Alexander as much as you do but what this spell does...’ He bit his lip tightly. ‘It’s not a matter of it almost working. Either it does or we fail.’ 

‘Well, how do we make it stronger then?’ demanded Isabelle. 

‘I don’t - wait.’ Magnus paused, looking over at Jace. ‘Parabatai blood.’ 

‘Would that do it?’ Clary asked. 

‘It might give the spell just enough of an edge to bridge the gap we need.’ There was a flash and a narrowly-bladed athame appeared in Magnus’s grasp. Grabbing the basin up from the table, he crossed the few steps between him and Jace, then bent down and pressed the athame into his hand. ‘Here.’ 

Without hesitation, Jace drew the sharp blade across his palm. A thick swell of blood ebbed out and at Magnus’ nod, Jace held his hand out over the basin so a few drops dripped in, coughing harshly as he did so. 

At once, the mixture flared pure white and Magnus nodded in grim satisfaction. ‘That should do it.’ He looked at Jace. ‘Are you coming or are you just going to sit there all night?’ 

‘I’m going too,’ Isabelle interrupted, surging forwards. 

‘I’m sorry, Isabelle, but no.’ Magnus shook his head as he stood to his feet and grabbed Jace by the wrist, pulling him up with Clary’s help on his other side. ‘It’s only enough for two, I apologise. And Jace has the best chance of being able to find him.’ 

‘He’s my brother!’ 

Clary interjected by letting go of Jace to grip Isabelle’s hand, tucking it under her arm. ‘We’ll be fine.’ She fixed gazes with Jace. ‘Go. Bring him back to us.’ 

Magnus nodded, wafted his hands over the mixture once more and, with a hiss of words, the world lurched and the study disappeared, the empty bowl left rattling behind on the floorboards. 

\------------------ 

He only had a few seconds of air left, had already swallowed too much water when his foot had slipped on the uneven cave floor. Shoving down his panic, Alec fought to retain control over his mind and body, forcing himself to slow his breathing, to draw in only what he needed to survive for those few moments longer. 

He wondered briefly what his death would do to Jace, how his parents would react. Isabelle. Max. _Magnus_. 

His mind stuttered and he forced himself to tilt his head upward again, to draw in another staggered breath as his mind whirled against the thoughts running through it. Magnus was immortal. Alec had always known he would die before him, that they had only a handful of years together in the eternal stretch of Magnus’ life. Magnus would be fine. He would help Jace and the rest of his family survive his disappearance, he was sure of it. They would need each other. 

He wondered if anyone would ever find his body. 

Usually he would have said he was prepared for death, ready for it. Shadowhunters had to be, knowing that any hunt could be their last. But this? Dying in some forgotten, anonymous cave, at the hands of an unknown enemy he had never even laid eyes on, much less battled? There was no honour in this, no fight, no glory. Just the inevitability of death without a way to rage against the uselessness of dying in the dark. 

The water was lapping at his lips now, no matter how he craned his head up. 

He managed to draw one last huge breath of air before it swallowed him. 

\------------------ 

When the world stopped moving, there was blackness and water all around him. It was cold and wet and Magnus found himself kicking out automatically until after some confusion he finally broke the nearby surface. Gasping for air, half-conscious of the rocky walls of a cave pressing in above him, he immediately searched for the last person he had seen as he fought against the panic starting to trickle icily through his gut. 

‘Jace?’ he gasped breathlessly. His clothes and boots were getting heavier, beginning to drag him down and he kicked harder, desperate to stay afloat. 

He heard splashing beside him. 

‘Magnus?’ 

Magnus coughed out a mouthful of ink-black saltwater, spluttering as it caught in his throat. ‘I’m here.’ Stretching a hand up out of the water, shivering in the chill air, he conjured a tight ball of his magic that glowed blue and bright as he held it aloft, lighting the soft play of waves ebbing about their shoulders. ‘Where’s Alec?’ he said desperately. 

Jace coughed, voice hoarse and echoing. ‘I can’t see him.’ 

‘That’s not possible. He has to be here. The spell-’ 

But Jace shook his head, interrupting him. ‘I mean I can’t see anything, Magnus! Turn that thing off, would you? I can sense him somewhere. He’s in trouble.’ 

Magnus realised the problem. The brilliant blue light of his magic was blinding Jace, his own warlock-mark eyes giving him the advantage needed to still be able to see. Quickly, he forced the ball of magic in the air to fragment until it was no more than a hundred gentle pinpricks in the dark. That done, he was finally able to make out his companion properly. 

Jace’s white face was ghostly amongst the twinkling lights, his pale blond hair streaked a sickly silver and gold against the blackness behind. They were in the centre of a rocky cave, the ceiling less than three feet above them as they bobbed in what seemed to be deep water. His own feet failed even to touch the ground and he could tell that Jace was faring little better. 

‘Where is he?’ he demanded again as Jace shook wet hair out of his eyes. 

‘Let’s think about this,’ said Jace. He coughed harshly, looking for a moment as if he were about to pass out, and Magnus reached a hand out to him, worried. But Jace shook it off, brow furrowed. ‘I’m having trouble breathing,' he said. ‘And if he’s not up here-' 

He paused and Magnus finished the terrible thought for him. 

‘-that means he’s down there.’ 

They both glanced down at the black water about them. 

‘Keep the light going,’ Jace ordered. And without waiting for an answer, he was gone, duck-diving into the inky saltwater, his legs kicking up after him. 

Magnus stared after him a moment, then shook his head and took his own gasp of air before plunging under the surface. 

The sight before him was worse than he could have imagined. 

Jace had found Alec. But Alec’s eyes were wide and unfocused as his body heaved in great, jerking shudders as the last traces of air tried to burn out of his lungs. Jace, clearly weakened by his parabatai's situation, already had a hand locked around one of Alec’s calves and it took Magnus a moment to register that he was hacking frantically with a dagger at a chain that bound Alec’s ankle to the rocky floor, preventing him from reaching the last few dregs of air that remained within the cave. 

He had to do something. 

‘Move!’ he bellowed frantically at Jace, bubbles issuing furiously from his mouth, and he wasn’t sure if Jace managed to read his lips or knew instinctively what he meant, but the Shadowhunter kicked back frenziedly, keeping one arm wrapped close about Alec as Magnus gave a sharp twist of his wrist, sending a bolt of blue lightning spearing towards where chain met rock. 

The world turned white, then the chain was gone, obliterated, and Magnus grabbed a handful of Alec’s shirt in his hands and kicked upwards, furiously, desperately. Jace was right beside him, dagger forgotten, his own hands wrapped under Alec’s armpits, and together they were pulling the dead weight of him up, towards the surface, towards the hundred sparkling lights, towards the air. 

Even before they made it all the way, Magnus was summoning his magic, and the purple light of a forming portal was waiting for them as they surfaced. Spluttering, his hair plastered wetly about his head, Magnus glanced around to see Jace as a pale blot bobbing above the rippling blue surface of the water with Alec a dark shape slumped against his chest, face lolling back limply against Jace’s t-shirt clad shoulder. 

The portal was fully formed now and Jace kicked towards it, shifting one hand to hold Alec’s chin out of the water which was seeping towards the portal, hissing as it struck it and disappeared. Magnus was being dragged along with it and he let himself go, wrapping his fingers more tightly in Alec’s shirtsleeve and reaching out for Jace. At the same time Jace was reaching back for him, and they took a grip on each other and a fiercer one on Alec and then they were through, spilling out onto the floor of the loft, drenched, sodden and soaking as the portal flickered out behind them. 

Clary and Isabelle scrambled back across the wooden floor of the study as they collapsed, coughing and choking in a tangled heap of wet limbs. Wheezing, Magnus barely had time to roll out of the way before Jace was up, pushing Alec over onto his side and tilting up his chin, trying to clear his airway. 

Alec didn’t respond and blindly Magnus scrambled towards them. ‘Alec? Alexander, wake up!’ 

He could see Isabelle at Alec’s head, tapping his cheek, softly at first and then harder as she tried to bring her brother round. Clary was standing behind her, her slim hand wrapped about Isabelle’s shoulder, face pale and eyes wide as she stared in shock at Alec’s bedraggled, lifeless form. 

‘Jace, heal him!’ Isabelle shouted. She tugged up Alec’s shirt, the black fabric clinging wetly to his chest, and Jace reached for his stele one-handed, immediately starting to apply a healing rune low on Alec's ribs. 

But Magnus knew it was wouldn’t be enough. Alec wasn’t wounded, he had _drowned_ , and he knocked Jace aside without care for where he landed before pulling at Alec’s shoulder, tugging his heavy weight over again so he lay splayed once more out on his back, long legs sprawled akimbo. 

‘Breathe, Alec, breathe!’ he urged, then glanced at Isabelle desperately. ‘You’ll need to do it for him.’ 

Nodding through unshed tears, Isabelle surged forwards and breathed into Alec’s lungs, first once then again, then she leant infinitesimally back, letting Magnus start chest compressions over Alec’s heart, just as Jace passed his stele over the healing rune he had etched. 

Nothing happened, so they did it again, the three of them, uniting their efforts as Clary was forced to watch helplessly from behind them. 

Alec just lay there, limp and unresponsive, and reeling back Magnus stared at him wildly, barely aware that Jace had cast his stele aside and along with Isabelle had begun another round of breathing and compressions. But it was to no avail, Alec wasn’t breathing, his heart wasn’t _beating_ , and Magnus knew that their miniscule chance of rescuing him was vanishing. 

He shook his head numbly. ‘No,’ he said, his heart ice-cold in his chest as he reached forward to ghost his fingers over Alec’s pale face. ‘No, I’m not going to lose you-’ 

He started to push at Jace and Isabelle, shoving at them, forcing them aside in order to clear some space. ‘Move!’ he bellowed at them and finally they shifted and, raising his hands high above Alec's chest, he clapped them together and released a bolt of jet-blue magic straight into Alec’s heart. 

Alec’s body spasmed, arching off the floor, then subsided. 

Magnus did it again. 

Above him, the ceiling cracked, little puffs of plaster raining down on them from above. He was vaguely aware of Jace and Isabelle and Clary around him, not daring to touch but pushing closer nevertheless as they gazed down at Alec. Isabelle had tears running down her cheeks now and Magnus glanced at her before releasing another bolt of lightning just as Jace shoved forwards and passed his stele once more over the healing rune etched low on Alec’s ribs. 

Alec coughed. 

At once, Jace was there, bent low over Alec’s chest and Magnus thought he was maybe crying as he urged Alec roughly over onto his side where he began to heave up mouthfuls of water. Isabelle was there too, brushing Alec’s wet hair back from his face as if it might help and Clary was there, pressed against her back, tears of joy on her face as she stroked a hand up and down Isabelle’s spine, the other reaching gladly for Alec’s limply clasping hand. 

Magnus let himself fall backwards onto the floor of the loft, uncaring for dignity or grace, just awash in the knowledge that Alec was breathing, was there, with him, alive. He gazed at his familiar features, taking in his pale-white face, the spiky wet hair, raking in every beloved inch of him, and slowly it registered that Alec was trying to push himself up, despite the hands pressing upon him, urging him to stay down. 

An exhausted Alec won out eventually, batting away the well-meaning touches. ‘I’m ok,’ he rasped out as he sat up, coughing again, Jace helping shift him until he was leant against the leg of the nearby table. His voice was rough and throaty, but he managed to reach out a clumsy hand to brush it across Isabelle’s chin. ‘I’m ok, Izzy. I’m here.’ 

Jace buried his head in Alec’s shoulder, Alec’s arm going instinctively round him as Clary raced off to get some blankets from the bedroom. Magnus just stared at Alec, unable to help himself, and Alec met his gaze with those great green eyes of his that Magnus had dreaded never seeing again. His heart seized and he felt it then, felt every one of those hundreds of immortal years pushing down upon him, all diminishing in importance against this one crystallised moment when he had Alec, whom he loved more than life itself, alive before him once again. And it hit him then, what he had to do. 

Pulling himself together, he pushed abruptly to his feet, drying off his and Alec’s clothes with a quick snap of his fingers. 

‘If you will all excuse me, I have something to attend to,’ he said. And reaching down to flit a soft caress against Alec’s cheek, he opened up a portal and stepped through, finishing his sentence only within his own mind. 

_Before the trail gets cold._

\-------------------- 

Two days later, Jace paced back and forth across Magnus’ lounge, unable to settle as he glanced at the door to the bedroom where Alec was resting – bullied into doing so by a combination of orders, pleas and flat-out bribery. Magnus was in there with him, and Jace cast a wary glance in their direction as he crossed the floor yet again. 

Curled up in an armchair by the rain-laced window, a ratty black jumper stolen from Alec’s side of the closet draped over her shoulders, Isabelle eyed him. 'Are you still enjoying wearing a hole in the floor over there?’ she asked edgily, putting down her phone. ‘Or are you going to quit this self-imposed sentry duty thing and finally get some sleep?’ 

Jace spun round to face her. ‘Clary’s not back yet,' he said abruptly. 

‘She’ll be back soon. She’ll be fine. But that’s not why you’re pacing, is it?’ 

Jace shrugged, unsure whether or not to share his thoughts. Isabelle had always liked Magnus for Alec, after all. ‘Something isn’t right about all this,’ he burst out finally, unable to keep it to himself any longer. ‘What happened the other night.’ 

Isabelle straightened, her chin going up. ‘Of course it wasn’t right. Our brother almost died. What’s right about that?’ 

Jace was cut off from replying by a rap at the front door. Before he could move to answer it, Magnus strode out of the bedroom, hair spiked high and wearing a studded leather jacket almost like armour. Crossing to the door, he paused momentarily to summon a crackling ball of magic in the palm of his hand before opening it, and Jace watched him carefully, shifting quietly around the room until he was stood silently behind him. 

At the sight of Clary’s red hair, Magnus instantly seemed to relax, his ball of magic disappearing as though it had never been. Ushering her inside, he cast a last look back and forth along the corridor outside before closing the door again, locking it firmly against the world before leaning against it for a second, head bowed, seemingly needing to pause. 

‘Expecting someone?’ Jace asked pointedly. 

Snapping to attention, Magnus swivelled to face him, any hint of tiredness gone. Taking in Jace levelly, he inclined his head. ‘Not anymore,' he replied lightly, before turning and heading for the bedroom once more, leaving the door edged open behind him. 

Returning to the others, Jace took a seat beside Clary on the couch as she finished pulling off her dampened boots and jacket. She had been part of a mission to take down the ancient warlock group who, according to Magnus, had spelled the Aydindril stone in revenge for a slight they claimed he had done them sometime back in the Renaissance. Jace had argued back and forth in his mind about whether or not he should lead the mission himself, but his unwillingness to leave Alec so soon after the attempt on his life had won out and he had left it to Clary and a six-strong team of Shadowhunters, knowing they would deal with any threat to the Institute’s Head with finality. 

‘Did you find anything?’ he asked her, as she drew her socked feet tightly up on the cushions, clearly still tense from the mission. 

Clary shook her head slowly, fingering the metal zip of her jacket as she laid it beside her on the arm of the couch. ‘Nothing.’ 

‘You mean you didn’t get them? Why? There must have been something to follow up on-’ 

‘No,’ Clary interrupted. ‘That’s not what I meant. I mean there was _nothing_. Just…darkness. A void.’ 

Jace frowned. ‘What are you saying?’ 

Clary’s face was pale as she gazed between him and Isabelle. ‘I think,’ she started hesitantly, 'that Magnus got there before us. When he left the other night, once we had Alec back.’ Her hands came up to wrap about her elbows so she was hugging herself. ‘I think... I think he wiped whoever did this to Alec out of existence.’ 

‘That’s impossible,’ Isabelle said bluntly. 

‘It’s not,’ said Jace. Leaning back against the couch cushions, he looked at her, gaze intense. ‘Remember the other night? Magnus said there were those in the world strong enough to do exactly that.’ 

Isabelle snorted sceptically. ‘And you think he was talking about himself?’ 

Chewing on his lip, Jace lowered his voice as he cast a glance at the bedroom doorway. ‘What I think is that Magnus’ spell shouldn’t have worked. I mean, to pinpoint someone’s location like that, when Magnus had no idea where Alec was?’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t remember even hearing of a spell strong enough to do that. And then, going by what Clary says, to make a _hole_ _in this world_ as his revenge?’ 

Clary had her head tilted as she gazed at him. ‘To warn others off,' she said thoughtfully. At Isabelle’s dubious look, she shrugged. ‘You didn’t see it today, Izzy. There was nothing there. Nothing. It was as though we couldn’t even look at the space this group’s headquarters was meant to have been, like our eyes wanted to slip over this... blackness... that was there.’ She shuddered. I've never felt anything like it.’ 

Jace nodded. 'There’s something else too,’ he said slowly. ‘That spell. Magnus said it would bring us to Alec _in its way_ , those were his exact words. But did you guys... feel anything when we left?’ 

Clary frowned, thinking back. ‘There was a lurch...’ she said. ‘I almost lost my footing when you left.’ 

‘Exactly,’ said Jace. ‘I felt it too, as we went.’ He leaned forward, lowering his voice even further. ‘I don’t think that spell took Magnus and me to Alec. I think it was the other way round – that wherever Alec was came to us.’ 

‘What are you saying?’ demanded Isabelle hotly. 

‘I don’t think the two of us went anywhere. I think he moved the world.’ 

The three of them stared at each other silently for a moment, then glanced as one towards the bedroom door. 

‘Are you going to tell Alec what we think happened?’ Clary asked Jace finally. ‘Warn him?’ 

‘Alec doesn’t seem too worried,’ said Isabelle, tilting her head pointedly with one of her dark eyebrows raised. 

Following along, Jace cast a glance through to the bedroom, where he could see the High Warlock of Brooklyn perched sideways on the pale golden sheets of his own bed, thigh nudging against the long legs of the dark-haired Shadowhunter lying underneath them as he pressed upon Alec a steaming mug of home-brewed tea. 

Alec was staring at the mug dubiously, but as Jace looked, both Alec and Magnus seemed to notice him and glance up, their gazes level and even. A beat passed, then Alec quirked Jace a smile, and took the tea from Magnus before wrapping the long fingers of his free hand firmly about Magnus’ palm, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss to it that Magnus returned in kind. 

Jace made himself make a face at the sight, causing Alec to break into one of his rare grins before turning back to the warlock, who, Jace noted, was looking upon them with a fond smile of his own. 

Twisting back to face the others, Jace found both Isabelle and Clary watching him as though waiting for a decision. Taking a moment, he thought about the panicked way Magnus had appeared at the Institute when Alec had disappeared, about his determination in getting him back, about how his magic had saved Alec, not once, but twice that awful night. And he thought about how easy Alec was around the warlock, accepting his affection, his magic and his wildly flirtatious teasing in a way that Jace had rarely seen, much less ever expected from his grim-faced parabatai. 

Something settled inside his head then as though slipping into place, and Jace looked at the others, dropping back against the cushions once more and reaching over to take Clary’s hand. 'I don’t think I have to warn him,' he said finally, playing with her fingers thoughtfully. ‘I think Alec understands what he’s walked into.’ He shrugged. ‘And hey, if there’s going to be a warlock who can tear apart the world to get to Alec? I’m just glad he’s on our side.’ 

And with that, he put his head back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes, knowing there would be someone else looking out for Alec while he caught up on some sleep.


End file.
